#geralt x jaskier fluff

[iskisaggie]

Needy Geralt, I repeat NEEDY GERALT 🗣️

[Do NOT repost, thanks] INSTAGRAM - BLUESKY

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 140

"What?" Geralt asks, frowning, a furrow in his brow. "I turn into a wolf every full moon." Jaskier repeats. "How-" "You were always away on a hunt. You'd just meet me back in the morning." "...You were a werewolf this whole time?" "..Yes. I- I'm sorry, Darling. I never wanted to lie." "Why didn't you trust me with this? Did you think I would hurt you?" "No! I thought I would hurt you. I'm not myself on full moons, Geralt. I can't even remember them. All I know is that the moon raises, i feel this ache in my bones, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up the next morning, nude, with a full stomach of what is HOPEFULLY nothing gross." "...You've not transformed in towns, have you?" "No! Of course not! I'm terrified of hurting someone, Geralt! That's the only reason I'm telling you now! I got the charts mixed up, I thought the moon was still a week away, but it isn't, and we're near a town, and I need you to keep me restrained." A long pause settles between them. "You want me to guard you?" "Guard them. From me. Keep me trapped in a shack and- And lock it up tight. Chain me, hurt me, knock me out, whatever you must do. Keep me from being a danger. I never wanted to be a terrifying beast, Geralt." Jaskier says, with those damned wet doe eyes of his. Geralt agrees. Because he doesn't know a world where he wouldn't. Mere hours later, Jaskier is sat against a beam in an old rundown barn. He's tied up with rope, and chained on top of that. There are no windows in the barn, the door is fully barricaded and locked, and Geralt guards it. "You really should guard it from outside" Jaskier had said. "I'm not leaving you to do this alone. You never should have had to." Geralt replied. Thus, Geralt stands and watches as Jaskier pales and starts twitching. The moon is rising. "It's coming- I'm going to be a beast." Jaskier says with fear, before the transformation takes the air out of his lungs. Geralt watches in horror and awe as Jaskier's body changes, changes, changes.... In... Into a songbird? sitting on the ground is a fat little songbird. It easily hops over the ropes and chains, now much too lose to hold it. Him. Oh my gods. Jaskier's not a werewolf. He's a... were.... werebird... And not even a scary one. Jaskier starts pecking the barn floor and Geralt rubs a hand over his face in exhaustion. He prepared for the worst, and instead is treated to watching Jaskier struggle to bathe in a trough. "Jaskier, it's too deep." He tells the bird, as it fluffs up it's wings. "Jaskier, you're going to-" Jaskier tries to take a step into the birdbath, only to fall, dunking his whole fat little body into the depths of the trough. He flails about in the water, chirping panickedly. Geralt rushes to his aid, gently lifting him out of the water with gentle hands. Perhaps guarding over Jaskier will still be a challenge after all.

[scarlet2007]

₊˚꒷꒦︶⊹ The Witcher's Witch₊︶꒷꒦︶

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader.

[ Master list ]

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Summary: Being rescued by the Witcher after being accused of being a Witch was the last thing you expected in life. But it looks like kindness can go a long way if shown to the right people.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Warnings: Mention of murder, beast slaying, taming wild animals, witch hunting, the reader is beaten up and was about to get burned alive.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Word count: 3.3k

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

The Witcher was finally in town, it was pretty clear from how the people were crowding towards a certain white haired man who stood besides a horse.

The crowd was sneering at the Witcher, calling him names and yelling at him, as if the Witcher was nothing but a mere dirty dog in their eyes. The Mayor of our town finally made an appearance, making the angry people go silent as they all waited for their "king" to speak.

"Ah, Witcher! We have been waiting for your arrival." The mayor chuckled, walking towards the Witcher, who stood tall amongst the crowd, clearly used to the sneering and insults of the people.

"There is an unknown monster lurking in the forest near our town, it had already murdered two people brutally. We need you to take care of the monster." The Mayor spoke as the people continued to glare at the Witcher. Some mothers even went as far as to try and 'shield' their kid from him as if he was the monster that would tear apart their children.

You stood slightly far from the crowd, watching everything occur as you scoffed at the hostility of the people towards the Witcher.

"They are acting as if he can't just kill them all in an instant..." You mumbled, chuckling darkly.

"You better be as good as they say you are, Witcher." Someone hissed, staring at the Witcher in disdain as they tried to stare him down. The Witcher ignored them all as he looked at the Mayor, nodding silently as the Mayor handed him a bag filled with coins.

"Where is the beast?" Asked the Witcher, making you sigh as the people started to talk about the beast all at once. Half of them were made up while the other half were useless.

Finally, the mayor explained everything that they knew about the beast, and where it attacks. You listened intensely, still standing away from the crowd as you stared at the ground in focus.

The Witcher nodded along, before he started to walk in the direction of the forest that was now forbiddened from entering for the safety of the people. You quickly walked in the opposite direction before entering an alley that lead towards the forest as you tried to track down the Witcher.

"Stop following me." A gruff voice said from behind you, making you jump as you turned around to face the dark and tall figure in front of you.

"Oh! It's you..." You sighed in relief, making the Witcher frown.

"Um... Mister... Uh.. sir? Whichever you prefer, I have some information about the beast that might help you." You chuckled nervously, looking around to see if someone was spying on you. You might get in trouble if you were to be seen with the Witcher alone.

"Speak."

You glanced at the Witcher before nodding, "Well... If you think the attack is being done by some sort of animal like a wolf, it's not true. It's not a wolf." You said quickly.

"What makes you think that?"

"W-well-... A wolf was injured because of the said beast and the wounds didn't look like it was from a wolf fight either so..." You mumbled, trying not to act suspicious.

The Witcher stared at you silently. You were acting suspicious and it was evident by the way you talked that you knew more than you told him. The Witcher took a step towards you, making you look up, still standing your ground nervously.

Witcher frowned at your weird behaviour, you were scared but not because of him, but because of something else. Something else was making you nervous.

He opened his mouth to speak before a sudden growl intrupted him, making both of them tense up as he grabbed his sword, stepping in front of you protectively. A wolf stood before them, glaring and growling at the Witcher, ready to pounce.

"Stay back-" The Witcher mumbled was unheard as you stood in front of him, glaring at the wolf.

"Sky!" You hissed, still standing in front of the Witcher. It would've amused him if they weren't in a tense situation. You, a young girl, perhaps in your mid 20s, standing before the Witcher with no weapons, as the Witcher behind you towered you with his height. You looked tiny compared to his frame, both height and muscle wise.

The Witcher felt annoyed at your pathetic attempt to tame a wild wolf, as if the wolf would suddenly transform into a domesticated puppy and obey your every command.

The wolf continued to growl but it slowly started to approach you, the wolf stance becoming slightly relaxed as it stared at you and your hand that was outstretched in front of you. The Witcher looked at the exchange in slight confusion, his expression was still stoic but he felt confused.

"Sky, come on, what did I tell you about jumping in front of guests like a beast? Hmm?" You mumbled as you patted the wolf, the wolf's tail wagging behind him.

"You... Tamed the injured wolf..?" Asked the Witcher, eyeing them warily. It's not everyday that someone saves a wolf, let alone tame them.

"I would prefer 'befriended' and yes, I did. He is a sweetheart. That is also why I wanted to warn you that this wolf is not the beast. Oh! And the beast also does not live here. It lives deeper into the woods, this area is just the edge of the forest. The people... They forgot to mention something important." You glanced at him as you stood up, the wolf standing besides you in his fully height, his black fur and tall height made it look intimidating, the wolf looked strong and but the bandages around his torso also did not go unnoticed by the Witcher, making him believe the story that you told him about patching up a wounded wolf even though it sounded bizarre and made up.

"What is it?"

You bite your lips, looking at the forest, deep in thoughts before finally speaking.

"The town people provoked the beast. Some drunkards wanted to prove to the people that there was no such beast residing in the depths of the woods, so they went ahead despite the warnings and... Well, only their mangled up bodies made it back here. That's why the people think that the beast resides in the edge of the forest and not deep within."

The Witcher's frown, staring at you for a while before speaking.

"They knew that there was a beast?"

You nodded, "The beast is older than most of us, the tales have been circulating amongst the people since past few generations, it can probably be dated back to the generation of our grandparents, something similar happened but this time, the beast is... More angry. It didn't kill people before like it did now, or at least that's what the people say."

The Witcher sighed at your words. This was more work than he intended to do. If the beast was as old as you said it was, then it wouldn't die without putting up a great fight and he was in no position to get into a full-on battle in his tired state.

"Sir..? You look tired, and I doubt the villagers asked you to rest or offered you food, would you..." You trailed off, laughing awkwardly as you stared at the Wolf, Sky, instead of the Witcher as you continued in a quiet manner, "Like something to eat?"

The Witcher froze, not expecting an act of kindness, especially from someone like you. He stared at you suspiciously, thinking that you had ulterior motives to offer him something like that. You looked at him in alarm, as if sensing his chain of thoughts as you waved your hands in front of you. "I don't need anything in return, i promise! It's just... You look tired and hungry."

The Witcher didn't say anything, simply staring at you for a solid minute before nodding his head along with a stoic, "hm."

"Um.. sir? Where did you leave your horse?" You asked suddenly.

"It's outside the woods."

"Ah... You can bring your horse in, this part of the woods is safe and Sky isn't going to hurt your horse, I can assure you that much." You smiled at him, the Wolf still standing guard besides you.

"How do you know it's safe here?" The Witcher rolled his eyes.

"Well... I live here. My cottage is just a few minutes walk away from here."

"You... Live in the middle of the woods?"

"It's the edge and yes, I prefer living here." That made the Witcher frown his eyebrows in confusion as he walked beside you to get his horse.

"Why? Isn't the town safer?"

You stayed silent for a while before chuckling softly. "Perhaps. But I am not too fond of the people there." The Witcher could see why, so he stayed silent and walked towards his horse.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

You provided food and a place for the Witcher to rest, which he found weird and bizarre but didn't complain about. You insisted that the Witcher rest for at least a day before he went to hunt down the beast, saying that it will give him more benefit in battle if he is well rested and fed. The horse, which you learnt was called Roach, was spoiled rotten too. It looked like you had a liking towards animals and insects, finding them adorable and taking care of them and for some reason, animals seem to like you too, even the most wild animals liked you and it was evident with how the wild wolf acted like a domesticated dog in front of you. The food you prepared for the Witcher was amazing, and the spare room was also comfortable enough for the Witcher to sleep in but you insisted that he slept in your room instead, that the spare room wasn't that clean and that you would sleep in the spare room instead. The Witcher tried to decline politely but you were stubborn and he ended up getting the best sleep he ever has in your bed while you slept in the spare room.

Your whole cottage was filled with plants, flowers and books. The plants weren't everywhere but the ones you did have inside were too pretty and went well with your theme. Your cottage had a cozy feeling to it, the aroma of tea and lavender was always present, along with some books lying here and there. It made the cottage feel like a home that the Witcher didn't have.

The Witcher thanked you before venturing off to hunt the beast, giving you a small, awkward smile before leaving. You waved enthusiastically at him, wishing him luck before rushing after Sky, who has decided to run after a rabbit.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

When the Witcher came back, the cottage was a mess, making him frown as he couldn't find you or Sky. It looked like you left somewhere in a hurry as there was still uncooked food on the table, half done and some books were scattered on the ground.

The Witcher went towards the town, the head of the beast was hanging from his hand. The battle against the beast wasn't easy, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.

The town was filled with commotion, people gathering around a tall tree, yelling at something or rather, someone.

As he walked closer, he could hear what they were saying clearly.

"Burn the Witch! Burn her! She was the one who brought the beast to the town!" Someone yelled venomously, making the Witcher frown his eyebrows as he walked towards the crowd. The Mayor took immediate notice of his presence as the people stopped yelling.

"Ah! Witcher! You are back and you brought the beast's head with you." The Witcher paid the Mayor zero attention as he stared at the scene in front of him. Someone was bounded to the tree with thick ropes, blood pooling underneath them as it dropped from the wound on their arm. It looked like a young girl, which made the Witcher slightly nervous. He couldn't see her face, as her head was down, her hair covering her face. The only thing that made it evident that she was alive was the quick motion of her chest falling up and down as she breath heavily.

The Mayor, displeased with the Witcher's ignorance towards his words, turned his attention to the girl instead. He stepped closer to the girl and gripped her hair, making her wince as he forced her to look up.

Witcher's breath hitched as he saw your pained face, staring directly at him before looking at the Mayor in fear.

"The beast you called upon is long dead now, Witch. You have no one to save you now." The Mayor hissed, staring at your face as he continued to hold your hair in a tight grip, making you wince.

You were already weak from the beatings and the lack of food, your head throbbing painfully under the harsh Sun. You were dehydrated, hungry, wounded and scared.  Oh, you were so so scared.

A lot has happened in the span of just four days after your last meeting with the Witcher.

You flinched when someone threw another stone at you again, wincing at the sharp pain that erupted from your temple, where the stone landed, making it bleed.

You couldn't even look at the Witcher, humiliation filled your body as you stared at the ground, willing yourself to not cry. You have yet to let the tears flow and you want to keep it that way. You want to keep some of your dignity, if there was even any left.

"What's going on?" You closed your eyes as you heard Witcher ask the Mayor. You didn't want him to think that you were someone evil, but you weren't sure if the Witcher will believe you over the Mayor's word or the people's word. You just silently hoped that they won't answer his question but your hopes died quickly as the Mayor began to tell him what happened.

"This girl, this witch, is the one that unleashed the very beast you hold in your hands. She was seen with a wolf, commanding him to attack innocents! She can put animals and beasts under her spell, making them do whatever she please." The Mayor spit out, glaring at you as you kept your eyes closed and your head low.

"Just look at her! She has been punished but she has yet to utter a word of apology or even a tear in remorse! She is a threat to the town and the people!"

"Burn her!"

"Kill her!"

Were the words that followed soon after the Mayor stopped talking, making the Witcher step in front of you protectively, just like how he did before when he saw Sky as a threat.

"Witcher, what are you doing?!" The Mayor fumed, staring at the Witcher in anger and annoyance.

"Keep your hands away from the girl." He said quietly, his sword already out, the beast's head thrown somewhere on the ground. No one dared to put up a fight against the Witcher, everyone was too cowardly to try and fight him.

"The Witch has put you under a spell too, Witcher!" The Mayor exclaimed as the people started to insult both of you.

You whimpered, staring at the people and the Witcher in fear.

"What good will it do to you even if you safe her? She is a damned witch that should rot in hell for her crimes!" The people agreed, trying to step closer to her before the Witcher pointed his sword towards them, making them step back in fear.

"I will keep her."

That made the whole town silent as you stared at the Witcher in confusion and shock.

He couldn't let them kill you, not when you were the only one that treated him like a human and showed him kindness, it pained him to see you in such a state and he will not let you get harmed. You took care of him, and it was now his turn to do so.

He gripped his sword tightly, glaring at whoever dared to step towards them.

"Give me the girl." He hissed, his gaze making everyone scared, some even rushing away to their home to not face his wrath.

The air was tense, people stared at you and the Witcher with scared and disgusted expression while the Mayor was deep in thought. The town was known for its cowardly people and after watching the Witcher walk with the head of a beast in his hand, nobody wanted to fight him.

"What will we get in return if we let the girl go unpunished?" The Mayor asked, smirking as he stared at the Witcher.

"You can keep your coins." He grumbled, throwing the pouch of coins towards the Mayor that he got as a payment when he first came here to slay the beast.

The Mayor checked the pouch before letting them go, commanding people to go inside their houses as they rushed away.

"You are lucky, or else today would've been your last day, witch." The mayor muttered venomously before leaving them be.

You flinched when Witcher's blade cut throw the thick ropes, all at once as you stumbled forward. He caught you, making you wince as it made you put some pressure on your wounds. The Witcher carried you towards your cottage, but not before the Mayor warned them that they had to leave before noon, and if they failed to do so, they will both be punished and killed. The threat made you tense, as you tried to make yourself as small as possible in his arms as he walked you towards your cottage.

"Where's sky?" He asked, trying to break the silence.

"I made him leave. The... The people saw him and they would've hunted him down or hurt him..." You mumbled, sniffling a bit as he sat you down on your bed.

He nodded in understanding, before cleaning yours wounds.

"You should go wash yourself and pack." You glanced at him, wondering what he meant by 'pack'.

"We need to leave. Make sure to only pack the necessary things like clothes and some food." He muttered, staring at you.

You looked scared, and timided, not like the lively girl he met that day that took care of him. It made his heart clench painfully for some reason.

"Oh... A-are you... Taking me in?" You asked slowly, stuttering a bit.

He nodded silently, walking out of your room to let you bath and change. Your voice suddenly made him stop.

"You... You can use the bathroom in the spare room to freshen up too!" He smiled a bit as he heard you, making his way towards the spare room.

After you were done packing and ready to leave, you both stood in front of the Mayor at the gate of the town, you stood behind Witcher, trying to hide from anyone's view, the Mayor stared at you both as you began to walk away from the town, making sure that you both were out of the town.

After walking beside Witcher and Roach, you glanced at him as you handed him a pouch with gold coins.

"U-um... I know what you did for me can never be paid by coins, but... I still want to thank you and repay you for saving me and giving up the coins you got as a payment." You mumbled quietly.

"Keep them." He grumbled, walking towards you.

"Do you know how to get on a horse?" You shook your head, making him chuckle at how cute you looked while doing so.

"Let me help you." You nodded as he grabbed your waist gently, trying to avoid any wounds as he helped you on the horse. It made your heart beat quicken with how close you both were.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Geralt." You looked at him in confusion.

"My name is Geralt, just call me by my name."

You stared at him in shock before smiling wildly, "Okay, Geralt!"

And for some reason, Geralt loved the way you said his name.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

[tielmamon]

Geralt still hates parties, but most of the time its worth the trouble if he's with his bard 🥹❤️

[eggcompany]

Gonna do a Geraskier fic, sort of canon adjacent.

There’s a special potion, something kept only for when witchers are at safety. Complete safety. Usually only when they’re surrounded by other witchers or locked away somewhere secure and secluded.

It makes him feel… dopey. And horny. It’s just kinda a recharge type of thing, mostly to keep them from going insane.

It’s Jaskier first time seeing Geralt so wild. He can’t sleep, he doesn’t eat, he’s got this look in his eyes like he’s full of static. He’s walking, going through the motions of traveling, but there’s nothing there. No matter how much Jaskier speaks, pesters, even gives him small touches, Geralt is a zombie.

Finally Jaskier puts his foot down, they had found an old abandoned house, burnt down but the cellar was intact. He took Roach’s reins and tied her to what was left of an old shed, under the cover with plenty of grass around.

He ushered them down into the secure, quiet space. It was spacious for a cellar. Throwing down their bedrolls and their lantern, lighting it with ease. Geralt sat in a corner, eyes blank as he spaced out.

Jaskier locked the door behind them and tossed Geralt’s satchel, his potions and tinctures.

“Fix yourself. I refuse to travel another step with you all-all dead fish faced and mopey!” Jaskier commanded and Geralt looked at him. Geralt dug through the satchel and found the small, tiny bottle of something shimmery and white.

Geralt looked at Jaskier as he uncorked the bottle. Jaskier was making the bedrolls and digging through their supplies. He took a sip, a few drops feeling like gold on his tongue.

The next morning when they woke up, Jaskier woke up first for the first time ever. He looked over at Geralt and was shocked. Geralt was smiling. In his sleep, his lips were turned up in a soft smile.

Jaskier was weirded out the entire day. Geralt walked slowly, lazily, he kept petting Roach, a hand gliding across her, fingers in her mane. And he ate. He stood and ate berries from a bush, having to be pulled away. And his eyes were big and round, relaxed.

Jaskier finally found a town, Geralt being no help with navigation at all. He found an inn and shoved Geralt up the stairs with a promise of ale and a bed. It was only as Geralt sat in front of the fireplace in nothing but a towel, shoving bread into his mouth did Jaskier notice something else.

Geralt was blushing, a pink to his cheek, faint and barely there but blush nonetheless. He came up and reached out, touching Geralt’s ear, usually the Witcher would have whipped around and smacked him, bit him, something.

“Geralt? Do you feel well?” Jaskier asked when Geralt leaned into his palm. And then Geralt was turning to nuzzle in closer.

Jaskier soon found out that Geralt was not feeling well. He was feeling everything.

[emiiinazer]

My bard

Some soft babes because I will go down in this fluff ship

Feel free to use as a phone background 😁

[horsedadgeralt]

He’s running

There is someone behind him, chasing him, getting closer with each step he takes, each desperate breath he tries to force into his screaming lungs.

Jaskier knows that it’s futile.

He is no fighter, and though that means that he is the prey, it’s clear that he wasn’t meant for that either, his legs shaking and his muscles twitchting as he’s trying not to get stuck in the muddy forest floor.

“Help!” he screams.

“Someone help me, please!”

But to no avail.

Behind him, there are footsteps, but he doesn’t dare look, knowing that if he gives in, he might just as well slit his own throat.

Is it Rience? Has he found him again, ready to finish what he started?

He can feel his hand starting to burn, can smell the stench of burning flesh and just as his foot gets caught on a root carefully hidden underneath some leaves, he can feel two arms around his waist.

As he closes his eyes to accept his fate, Jaskier lets out one last scream. For himself or the forest, he does not know. Do you really make a sound if no one is there to hear it?

But there is no pain. No fire, no sizzling, no smoke, just warmth.

That, and the two arms still tightly wrapped around his waist, holding him close.

“Jaskier,” Geralt mumbles, his face buried into the bard’s hair.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. It’s just a dream, you’re safe.”

It takes a moment for reality to catch up with him, but then Jaskier feels it. The mattress below him, the blanket covering them both.

He hears the sound of the last few pieces of wood burning in the fire places, crackling as the fire eats away at it, and dollops of rain falling against the window with a random yet comforting rhythm.

And, loudest of all, he hears Geralt’s hearbeat. Steady and slow, each thud pulling him back into reality more and more.

Thud.

He is safe.

Thud.

Geralt is here.

Thud.

Slowly, he turns around so that he is facing the Witcher, their chests flush. He mimics the sleepy smile on Geralt’s face and leans in close for a kiss.

Thud, thud, thud.

With butterflies in his stomach and chest, he closes his eyes, the song of their hearts beating in unison lulling him back to sleep.

[daddyyy88]

Geralt of Rivia Fluff

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 2.6k

warnings: reader is injured at the beginning, reader is wounded, reader gets stitches (I think), clingy geralt, ?

summary: Never in your wildest dreams did you think Geralt of Rivia would turn out to be the clingiest boyfriend you’d ever had

When you first started your relationship with Geralt- actually, scratch that. When you first met Geralt you thought he was the furthest thing from clingy. He barely even spoke, much less touched you or even looked in your direction really.

After he fell out with Yennefer, he met you. He was planning to just stay in this small village for a few days and rest, knowing he had to keep moving so no one would find him and Ciri. That was until he stumbled upon you.

He found you running from some odd and probably hungry monster, looking to feed…on you. Possibly one of the most gorgeous women he’s ever seen. You looked quite out of place, your light pastel purple skirt gradually getting covered in dirt as you tried to escape the creature.

You yelped as you tripped over a branch, sobs racking your body as you fell face first into the dirt. You groaned, cursing frantically through sobs, trying to crawl away from the creature.

“fu- FUCK!” You said as the creature drug his claw across your thigh. You cried out, whimpering as you finally accepted your fate. Suddenly, right when you feel it’s stinky, hot breath on you it disappears just as fast.

You couldn’t see what was happening, back facing upwards and your face still buried in the ground. You felt a man’s hands on your waist and you screamed, curling tighter even though it caused more pain to pulse in your thigh.

“Miss, I’m the one who just saved your life. I’m…a Witcher. Even if you hate me right now, I’d like to help you if that’s alright?” He said as he walked in front of you bending down so you could see him. You whimpered as you said “p-please don’t hurt m-me”

“I’m not going to. I just need you to cooperate and I promise you’ll be just fine in a little while” he said and you nodded. He scooped you up and plopped you on his horse, making you cry out in pain.

“Can you…mmm- b-be gentle?” You asked and he sighed. He mumbled an apology and started leading Roach back to his lodgings that he found sufficient for a few days.

You had passed out then, and he realized that his poor excuse for a tourniquet failed. “Shit,” he said and laid you on his bed, pulling your skirt off to help him treat you better.

“Oh gods, what the hell is this?” Ciri asked and Geralt sighed. He poured a disinfectant on your thigh as he said “found her being chased by a monster. Did my job. Now I’m helping her” “why didn’t you just find a doctor to do it?” She asked, setting her bag of fruits down and beginning to wash them.

“Don’t have the coin for it. Why so many questions, Ciri?” He asked and she shrugged. She looked over and said “I don’t know, just…feels unusual” “she needs help. I’m providing it” he said and Ciri nodded, chuckling.

He treated you to the best of his abilities and waited for you to wake up, going out and chopping some wood to fill his time and also training with Ciri a bit. When he came back inside it was nighttime and you were still sleeping.

He knew you weren’t dead, he could hear your heartbeat faintly and you weren’t super pale anymore. He walked over and shook you lightly, trying to wake you up. “Miss?” He asked, and you still didn’t budge.

He sighed and then nearly jumped when Jaskier busted in, a little drunk admittedly. “Ohhhh Geralt!” He sang, stumbling in. Geralt sighed and stared at him, hoping Jaskier wouldn’t cause too much trouble because he needed to look after you.

You groaned softly, rubbing your eyes and coughing a few times. You tried to sit up but moving your thigh cause immense pain. “Ahh!” You groaned, trying to figure out what the hell happened.

“Hi, Miss. Are you alright?” Geralt asked and you jumped slightly. You looked around frantically and then said “w-where is my skirt?” You asked and he cleared his throat. He showed that it was on a table and said “I had to take it off to treat your wounds”

You looked down at your thigh and winced, gently touching it and moving the bandage. “Thank- th-thank you” you said, looking up at him. Jaskier walked over with a smirk on his face and said “and who are you-” “Jaskier,” Geralt scolded softly.

“Y/n…of Aedirn” you said and smiled a little. You noticed a look of confusion on his face and you understood why. You were in a far away village near Creyden, why? “Julian Alfred Pankratz?” You asked the brown haired gentleman and he smiled. He nodded and said “that would be me. Viscount of Lettenhove”

You nodded and looked up at the white haired Witcher, sighing. “Uhm…Rivia…Geralt?” You asked and he nodded, a small smile on his face. Ciri had came out of her room and scoffed at the interaction. “Are you blushing?” She asked and Geralt shot a stern look her way.

“You should be asleep” he said and she shook her head. “Jaskier woke me up” she mumbled and he gasped. He ran over and hugged her as he said “I deeply apologize, my little pocket sized princess. Oh, you should get your beauty sleep come on”

You chuckled a little at the interaction and Geralt bent down to your level. His gaze made butterflies swirl in your stomach. “How are you feeling?” He asked and you sighed. You look down at your leg and said “sore. And dirty” “would you like me to help you with a bath? I would leave you alone but I don’t think you’ll be able to walk properly for a while” “I appreciate it. Yes, thank you” you said and he got to work.

He ended up staying for longer just to care for you and you told him your story. Your parents turned you away because you were secretly harboring magical abilities behind their back and they had strong opinions against that. You’ve been running around all over the continent trying to figure out where’s safest but it’s been tough and technically your homeless.

But he was so infatuated with you he wasn’t really thinking when he said “travel with me. And Ciri of course, and sometimes Jaskier” You shook your head and insisted you couldn’t, you would only be a bother. He insisted instead that you come along.

He was a man of mostly few words, and kept to himself quite a bit. You spent a lot of time with Ciri. You would teach her to cook, help her control her chaos, braid her hair, and even tell her stories of your travels before you met them. The two of you almost seemed like mother and daughter at times but neither of you noticed. You just felt like best friends.

You had to admit, Geralt was a beautiful man. When you caught him shirtless once, you nearly fainted. He was just so handsome, and you wanted to kiss every scar on his body till he forgot about them.

But you thought you never stood a chance with him. You knew about what happened with Yennefer and assumed that because of that you wouldn’t be able to have any romantic relationship with him. Even if you tried, you think it would be rude because of how much happened between them. Truly you are still convinced to this day that they are soulmates, and he would drop you in a heartbeat if she came back and wanted to try again. But that’s a story for another day.

Months go by, you’ve completely healed so long ago you don’t need to burden them any longer with your presence but you feel so welcomed and safe with them. However, after about a year or so you’ve started to think that maybe it would make things easier if you went off on your own again, like it used to be.

You packed your bags and made your way to the lake where Geralt was fishing from. “Hey,” you said, walking up to him. He looked over at you and grunted in response. “I uh…I’ve been thinking and I’m gonna go out on my own again. I’ve been healed for months and I don’t need to stay and bother you any longer. Im grateful fo-”

“Stop,” he said, putting down his net. He shook his head and said “what are you talking about? You are not leaving” “Geralt…I-I was only supposed to travel with you until my leg healed and it’s been over a year. I’m okay now. The less people you have to travel with the easier, so I thought maybe I’d-”

“No. You can’t go. You can’t- do not go. Y/n, why do you say such stupid things?” He asked and you shook your head. You scoffed, shaking your head as you said “why do you care so much? I’m just some strange, homeless woman you met a year ago and just so happened to save from a really stinky monster”

“You’re- why do you think so little of yourself? Stop talking about this nonsense, I don’t want to hear it” he said and you rolled your eyes. You folded your arms and said “so what? I cant go because you say so” “Ciri needs you! I ne- mmm. Go back inside, you’re not leaving” he said and you gasped.

He looked away, obviously shy and embarrassed and you blushed instantly. Did he really mean that? “Geralt…” you said and he ignored you. You walked over in front of him but he still wouldn’t look at you.

You cupped his cheeks and said “what were you going to say?” “I- I can’t. It’s- it’s not fair to Ciri” he said and you sighed. You looked over his facial expression and let go, slowly walking away. He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed.

He decided to just say it in case he never got the chance again, even though he was scared. “I need you, y/n! Alright? There, I said it” he said and groaned as if he was annoyed. You smiled then, just slightly as you stopped walking, butterflies swirling in your belly.

“I thought you didn’t need anyone?” You said as you walked over again. He looked away, feeling so embarrassed he could run away. You almost couldn’t tell, just a small furrow between his brows aside from his usually stoic expression.

“I also said I didn’t want anyone needing me but now Ciri doesn’t get to leave my side and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I guess I lied. And I need you.” He said and you nodded, taking a deep breath. You looked over at what he had already caught and said “alright, fine”

You began to walk away and yet again he pulled you back, pushing you against a tree as he cupped your cheek with one hand and your waist with the other. He looked scared, and you were just about to tell him he didn’t have to do this but then he kissed you and your mind blanked.

He slowly and gently licked into your mouth, connecting your tongues as he caressed and squeezed your waist. You were blushing and smiling so hard as your tongues swirled together, his warm hands making the butterflies in your belly worse.

You pulled away, feeling your face was going to explode and he was only making it worse. “What?” He asked as you stared at him. You giggled and said “you’re smiling,” “no, I’m not” he said and blushed, kissing you again.

He never stopped touching you after that day. You tried to keep this new relationship from Ciri but not a week later she caught Geralt embracing you as you made breakfast. He knew you were upset at him, but he couldn’t help the grin on his face as you scolded him, knife pointing towards him with your hair in a messy bun from when you slept and your nightgown still draping over your beautiful body.

She seemed a bit confused about it, clearly distracted during lessons and keeping to herself for a while after that. You never heard the end of it considering Geralt lingered around you quite a bit and had become so talkative as he got more and more comfortable with you everyday.

Eventually she warmed up to your new relationship, especially since she was seeing it all the time everywhere every day. He couldn’t keep his hands off you to save his life. Quite literally, he almost got seriously injured trying to get you away from one of the many monsters he's fought and killed.

And now, it’s high noon and you’ve been stuck in bed underneath a giant white haired man. A little sex, and a lot of cuddling has gone on in the last 16 or so hours. You assume at least. You’ve been too busy with Geralt.

“You know, I thought when we started seeing each other romantically that we wouldn’t last because I would feel insecure due to the lack of attention you’d give me. The last thing I’d expected was this” you said, making him lift his head up.

He searched your eyes as he said “do you…not like it?” “No, no, I love it, I just- well…have you met yourself? You’re not exactly very affectionate to everyone you meet” you said and you both laughed.

“I just…love you so much” he said and you blushed. He’d told you it took him so many years to tell Yennefer he loved her and you two had only been romantically involved for a little over a year. And it’s been the best year of your life.

He trusted you so much. He chose to be vulnerable and he chose to be vulnerable with you. It was the greatest feeling ever. You’d never given him a reason not to trust you and as scary as it was he reacted directly to that fact every single day he was with you.

“I love you more. My sexy, white haired lover” you said and he blushed. You kissed him and he said “the only white haired lover you’ll ever have” “for the rest of my life” you finished, kissing all over his face.

He smiled and it made you blush. You couldn’t help it. 10 years could pass and you’d still feel so shy when you could make him smile. “As much as I do love this, I am quite hungry” you said and he sighed. He rested his head back on your chest for just a moment longer and then got up, looking around for his clothes.

You smiled, rolling onto your side and admiring his body. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said, turning around. It was a little bit of a strain but you reached over and smacked his ass, making him gasp and reach over to the other side of you, doing the same.

You squealed, calling a truce because you knew how quick he could turn this dirty and your ass was already sore from being slammed against so many things last night and also from having you in- never mind. If you keep remembering you’ll only get yourself worked up again and then you’ll never leave this bed.

“Dirty girl,” he said, leaning down and kissing you once he got his clothes on. You curled up in bed for just a little longer, smiling at the fond memories of how amazing it’s been loving Geralt for the last 2 years. Even when you weren’t together, you did everything you could think of to subtly show your love for him. You wouldn’t trade him for the world.

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Lo’ak

Neteyam

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes

CW!Bucky Barnes

Chris Evans

Steve Rogers

Ari Levinson

Geralt of Rivia

Henry Cavill

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

[dapandapod]

Concept:

Geralt works in an aquarium, near the biggest fish tank.

Jaskier is a newly hired mermaid performer

Geralt was not told about this

In my dreams, it's still Mermay 2023. Husshhh time is fake. ANYWAY here it is! Thank you @magdelanesingerin helping me beta read <3 and thank you Ella-la for the prompt! It was a lot of fun! Please enjoy <3 On Ao3 here

Technically, Geralt does not work with humans. As in, he’s not there to provide care to humans.

Most of his coworkers are human, yes, but that is not the point. He did not start working here to serve people stale sandwiches and sparkling water.

Geralt knows every inch of the aquarium, knows every work position available.

He knows how to do everything, despite actually being there for the more excotic species of aquatic animals, usually with many teeth. Pros and Cons of working with the family, he supposes.

The years he has spent out in the field and all the late nights he worked with his doctor's thesis, all the scars from times he spent crawling through knee deep water that stank of sulfur and decay, only to find his arm swallowed to the elbow by something very small with big hubris-- all of that is put to perfect use as he wraps yet another dry, overpriced sandwich, or scoops yet another ice cream.

The reason he actually stays, despite the screaming children and the sweating parents and the bored teenagers and the entitled grandparents and the weird work tasks he gets assigned, is the way a young girl's face lights up when Geralt holds up a frog, big enough for him to have to use both hands.

Or the way the sullen teen beams when one of their rare giant butterflies lands on their hands. Or when he can hold an audience captive while showing them something new and exciting and incredibly nerdy about his sharks.

Geralt loves his sharks.

Due to every summer reason ever, Geralt has sadly been called away from his animal related daytime tasks to cover shifts where their usual summer employees are out sick. Which seems to be most of this month.

Where he stands right now, in the very small and very understaffed little kiosk, he has an excellent view of the shark tank, at least. As the aquarium has grown in popularity, so has their shark tank, his pride and joy.

Coën had explained to him excitedly that their new tank would have a much bigger viewing area, and seating area, almost like a little theater. To allow for future opportunities, he had said, and Geralt thought of the way he would be allowed to show off his beauties through the window and almost got excited himself.

It is unusually crowded today, and a lot of people are gathering around the viewing area and are chattering.

It's so loud, their voices bouncing around the room and amplifying, and it's hard to hear the woman in front of him inexplicably order their largest latte and a lactose free cheese sandwich.

Luckily, Milva is coming in soon to cover the rest of the shift, so Geralt can finally get back behind the tanks, out of sight of all the people.

But before he can, the clock strikes one, music blares through the speakers the speakers, and one of the employees he knows from birthday parties steps out with a microphone. It makes Geralt frown, because this is new.

Usually, the show around the big tank would involve a kid friendly lesson about the fish and aquatic animals in their tank, sometimes accompanied by a sweaty Lambert in a mascot suit.

This time, however, there is dreamy music, the lights are lowered even more, and the employee is talking about the magical beings living in the deep, out of sight of human eyes.

See, Geralt is a man of science.

He knows there are mythical and magical things in the depths, having been up close and personal with a few. But this sounds like they are setting up for some kind of misinformed children’s movie.

Which is why Geralt's jaw is somewhere around floor level, when an actual mermaid- wait no, merman, swims up to the glass, waving at the children.

Milva has to elbow him out of the way so she can serve the next customer, while Geralt stares at the Merman flitting around in his beloved shark tank.

The sharks stay clear, because even if the merman's tail is beautiful, it is still striped much like a dragon fish, warning all of them not only with his size, but also with his pattern and coloring, that he is dangerous.

Yet his smile is wide, his claws retracted to tap a smooth fingertip at the glass and wave at the crowd with a webbed hand.

His hair is chestnut brown, matching the pattern riding up along his back, with specks of gold dancing on his skin and in his blue, very blue eyes.

Geralt somehow finds himself by the rail to the seating area, and the merman's eyes lock with his.

As they do, they widen a fraction, and the smile turns into a smirk. The merman winks, and turns, swimming in a pirouetting circle as the employee narrates his movements.

As he swims, the light dances over muscle and bone and scale, the crowd around him making ‘Oooh’ and ‘Aaah’ noises. He is beautiful.

The merman keeps showing off, his many long fins twirling around him like ribbons in the calm water. It is mesmerizing, and as the show is coming to a close, Geralt hurries to the back area and towards the tank.

He gets intercepted by Lambert, of course, who steps in front of him with a shit eating grin spread wide across his smug face.

"Like the new show, did you, pretty boy?" Lambert says, sly eyes watching him.

"I didn't realize we had a new show." Geralt grumbles. "I need to-"

"-Go and ask our new pretty fish boy intrusive questions, yes I know. Just remember he is not a science project."

With a pat on Geralt's shoulder, Lambert walks past him and intothe guest area.

"Oh, and ask him for his number. Literally everybody in the room saw that wink," he throws over his shoulder as he goes.

Geralt feels his ears burn as he moves forward again, because yeah, that wink felt very... yeah. Words fail him, which is a bit unfortunate, seeing as he is just arriving at the stairs to the tank.

Climbing them, he tries to remember what he planned to do in the first place, other than, as Lambert called it, 'ask intrusive questions'.

As he reaches the top of the stairs, the merman is just climbing out of the tank, assisted by Eskel. Once again, Geralt feels his jaw drop, noticing that his tail is now legs.

Long legs. Bare legs, that goes up, up, and lucky for all of them, the rest of the view is quickly hidden by a towel wrapped around a slim waist.

"Figures," he hears Eskel snort, "Jaskier, this is Geralt, our aquatic expert."

They are on separate ends of the room, the tank between them, but the world narrows down to just the two of them.

There is, and always has been, a specific mood to the rooms that houses the the big tanks.

The way the water reflects light, sending it dancing on the walls and ceiling, how it softens shadows, how it can be dark but bright at the same time; Geralt has always did found it a little romantic.

Which isn't something he would ever confess to unless he was swimming in alcohol, or so sleep deprived he didn’tt even know his own name, but it is there, simmering in the back of his mind.

Especially now as he is standing there in the soft, romantic light with a man, who was just a merman, looking back at him as if he has discovered the world anew. He can even pretend that the humming of pumps and gurgling of water filters and dripping of pipes are an orchestra, a symphony to accompany a first meeting.

Alright, that is overdoing it, but still.

Behind Jaskier, Eskel is rolling his eyes so hard his body moves with it.

"Every. Frickin. Time. Jaskier, good job, don't forget to wash off before you get dressed. Let's talk after... after. Later. I do not want to be here right now."

Eskel leaves, patting Jaskier's shoulder, who only nods and waves absently, eyes still fixed at Geralt.

When Eskel is gone, disappearing through another door leading to more, smaller tanks and the food prep area, Geralt finally finds he can move.

It is oddly silent, except for the metallic sound of his shoes hitting the maze of walkways hanging above the tank. He stops, even before he has turned the corner to the final stretch.

"Hi," he manages after a few seconds too long.

The corner of Jaskier's mouth tugs up into a smile, and he reaches for another towel hanging on a hook on the wall.

"Hi," he echoes, his voice just a little raspy. Jaskier wraps the towel around his shoulders, using a corner to dry his hair. "So, you are the Geralt that I have heard so much about."

Geralt blinks. He did not expect people to have mentioned him, but then again, they might actually have warned Jaskier of him.

"Ah. Sorry. I can be uh... less than tactful when something grabs my interest."

Jaskier tilts his head even more and takes a step closer to him.

"So did I? Grab your interest, I mean."

Shit. Fuck. Shit fuck shit.

"I have never met a merman before." Geralt says stiffly, ears burning something fierce, and Jaskier looks amused.

Jaskier steps closer; his feet probably hurt from walking barefoot on the metal grating of the walkway but he doesn't stop until he is close enough to Geralt to stretch out his hand.

"Well then. My name is Jaskier, as you might have gathered. Nice to meet you! Though, I am not full mer, actually."

Interesting.

Geralt shakes his hand, noticing the tips of Jaskier’s fingers are a little rough against the back of his hand.

"Is that why you have... uh..."

"Legs?" Jaskier supplies helpfully. Geralt is still shaking his hand. "In part, yes. Some Mer have a splash of elven blood, granting them the ability to choose."

Geralt should stop shaking his hand. He really should. Their eyes are still locked, and Jaskier is still giving him that amused smile.

"You can stop shaking my hand now," he reminds Geralt, but doesn’t pull his hand back.

"Right. Yes. Right. Sorry." Geralt manages to let go, and is infinitely happy Eskel has left the room, though no doubt Lambert will look at the security footage for later. Shit.

As soon as Geralt manages to break the stare into the man’s eyes, he notices the next problem. Jaskier is pretty much naked, barely covered by the towels, revealing skin, chest hair, and the hint of a tattoo along his ribs and on one thigh.

He wants to ask about that, if it transfers to his fins or not. But as he stares, he also realizes Jaskier is shivering slightly. He's an idiot.

"I uh. Should leave you to get dressed. There is a shower in the changing rooms. Uhm. Can I get you a coffee or something? Later?"

Jaskier smiles that amused smile of his while Geralt is kicking himself internally. Words never were his thing, no, but this is ridiculous.

"As in bring me a coffee, or drink a coffee together with me?"

"Whichever you are comfortable with. Sorry, I am not making a good impression here."

"You are very cute, if that helps." Jaskier says, and Geralt blinks, stunned.

When he fails to reply, Jaskier pulls his towel tighter around himself, and nods.

"Right. So, I'll go shower, and we’ll pretend I never said that. And I'll see you later. For coffee."

Jaskier’s ears are slightly red, and Geralt wants to pretend it’s from their conversation, not from being cold.

Geralt nods, and flees before he can put his foot in his mouth any further, and only after he is half way down the stairs does he realize that he forgot to ask if Eskel showed Jaskier where the changing rooms are.

Too late now, he absolutely won’t go back and risk walking in on a very naked Jaskier. Nope.

When Geralt steps into the public area again, the crowds are slowly thinning out, now that the show is over.

Parents are herding kids towards bathrooms and other viewing areas, and Geralt decides that he needs to find something just a little better than the staff room coffee machine.

It feels a little cheap to go with the aquarium café, and he realizes he doesn't even know how Jaskier likes his coffee. Geralt himself has a sweet tooth, and very few ever believe that at first sight.

He decides to stand and awkwardly waits until Jaskier comes back out.

He manages to work himself up as he waits, overthinking until he’s standing there frowning and glaring at the wall when Jaskier emerges at last.

Quirking an eyebrow, Jaskier hoists his dufflebag a bit higher on his shoulder.

"You good?"

"Hmm. What kind of coffee do you like?" Geralt asks, before he can say something dumb.

"Black as tar, so anything is good." Jaskier smiles. See? You never know what to expect, even with sunshine incarnated.

Geralt nods, and leads the way to the little kiosk where he was working just a few, life-changing minutes before. .

Milva smiles gleefully at Geralt when it's their turn, and hands them a coffee black as tar, and for Geralt, coffee with milk and three sugar cubes.

Instead of sitting down, they put away Jaskier's bag and wander around the aquarium. It turns out he never had the chance to look around before diving in for his first show.

Geralt tries to not ask all the intrusive questions bubbling up in his head, his scientific curiosity temporarily pushed down by the way Jaskier coos at tiny crabs and little fishes in weird shapes and colors.

At last, Jaskier informs him that he can't stay any longer, that he has band practice after his show, and should have gone already.

"But I'll see you again, Geralt," Jaskier promises with a smile. "Next week. Unless you want to grab a bite sometime?"

Jaskier's ears are red again, and Geralt can feel his own face getting warm.

"I'd like that," he mumble, and Jaskier beams. They exchange numbers, just in case Geralt had anything else to ask.

Not one minute after Jaskier leaves, waving over his shoulder, Lambert is on him.

"Getting some tail, are you, pretty boy?" Lambert grins, and Geralt elbows him away.

"If you say anything ever again, I'll show Aiden all your drunk texts," he threatens, which he knows will only work for a few days.

Geralt risks sending a text that same night, and Jaskier replies only a few minutes after.

They have a lunch scheduled in a few days, and Geralt doesn't dare call it a date, not yet, no matter what Eskel says.

When Geralt goes to sleep later that night, he dreams of blue eyes, of chestnut brown and gold specks glimmering in the underwater light.

[bluewritinghood]

Witcher! Watch out for that tree!

“You didn’t have to throw that guy through a table you know.” Jaskier says absentmindedly plucking at his lute as he walks beside Geralt down the dusty path.

“He was being an ass.” Geralt reminds him.

“Yes, well it did get us kicked out of the inn though so maybe not worth it?” Jaskier says still plucking at his lute more than likely trying to subconsciously perfect a tune that would soon make an appearance in one of his latest songs.

“He called you a cocksucking bastard.” Geralt reminds him gruffly. “I wasn’t going to let it go.”

“I mean it’s not the worst thing I’ve ever been called I could give you a whole list of insults a mile long that’s been hurled at me this year alone and never repeat the same one twice.” Jaskier laughs at his own expense.

Geralt offers an irritated grunt by way of reply.

“I mean it wasn’t even really an insult since it’s true, I mean half of it at least.” Jaskier says tuning his lute slightly.

“You were an illegitimate child?” Geralt asks surprised.

“Oh gods no. No matter how much my father would like to claim otherwise, I meant the first part. You didn’t know I was Bisexual?” Jaskier asks sounding genuinely surprised.

Geralt doesn’t answer, doesn’t say anything at all, doesn’t look away from Jaskier even as they approach an enormous tree in the road. But surely Geralt couldn’t miss it, its trunk was wider than his shoulders for heaven’s sake.

Geralt runs smack into the tree with a dull ‘Thunk’ stumbling backward.

“Good gods Geralt are you alright?!” Jaskier says jogging the few steps he had fallen behind Geralt to catch up with him and check on him. “How in the world did you miss that tree?”

“You’re into men?” Geralt asks instead of answering the question.

“Yes, I thought that was painfully obvious. Don’t tell me that’s why you ran into the tree it’s honestly not that surprising. I mean I’m kinda fruity.” Jaskier says with a laugh.

Geralt just stares at Jaskier until his smile fades.

“You’re not opposed to that sort of thing are you?” Jaskier asks suddenly a little worried that this of all the things might be what ends their friendship.

Geralt is a silent as a stone for a few minutes leaving Jaskier to wonder what exactly he would say if he ever said anything at all.

“No.” Geralt finally grunts out relieving Jaskier of his fears.

“Well that’s a relief.” Jaskier says with a nervous chuckle.

Geralt continues to stare at him until Jaskier finally asks. “What exactly is the problem then?”

Geralt finally stops looking at him only to start looking anywhere but at him. “I’m in love with you.” He mumbles.

“I’m sorry come again?” Jaskier guffaws. “Because I thought a certain sorceress occupied that stony heart of yours.”

Geralt shakes his head reverting back to his normal taciturn state.

“You’re telling me I’ve had a chance with you all this time and you’re just telling me now?” Jaskier asks voice raising an octave.

Geralt finally seems to get the message that his feelings are reciprocated because the next thing Jaskier knows he’s being pushed up against the tree and Geralt is kissing him.

Ao3 link to this story.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45596839

[lexysmexy5]

Witcher Headcanons fluff

For all of you witcher fans here are some fluff headcanons for all reader genders.

For Geralt x reader:

He loves when you talk to him when he is out looking for monster contracts, he most of the time never talk back or seems bored by your talking but he does love your voice, it makes him feel less lonely and different.

He loves to play with your hair (for those who have no hair or don’t like hair he will rub your head softly)

He will sometimes grab your hand and rub circles on them with his gloved hands he does tend to wish he had no gloves on because he loves how your hands feel.

For Lambert x reader:

Lambert is very VERY protective and will do anything to keep you from harm and let’s say if he finds anyone eyeing you in a way he doesn't like, you have to stop him from bashing the person’s head in or a sword in their body.

He hates taking a bath unless you come with him.

He doesn't ever tell you but when you rub his shoulders after he comes home (or at Kaer Morhen) either in the tub or in your guy’s room he absolutely loves it you know how to get every knot out of his shoulders.

For Yennefer x reader:

She will buy you anything (or steal) that you find you like or whatever she thinks that would look good on you.

Yennefer loves when you sing (or read) to her she loves hearing your voice.

She wants to be next to you at all times if possible and she will hold your hand a lot.

For Jaskier (Dandelion) x reader:

He goes to a lot of performances and loves it when he sees you in the crowd listening to him sing.

He will always hide his nervousness in the relationship with humor and jokes (and you can’t forget his nervous hand gestures) but he always trusts that you will work things out together.

He loves when you sing with him (or listen) he talks and sings a lot being the enter of attention but he never forgets to give you the spotlight at times and let you shine and get the attention, not all the time though after all he is your damsel in destress.

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I wonder if you want a part 2 because I will do it. I will also do smut/spicy headcanons too. I am VERY new to posting on Tumblr I have been on here for a while but never really posted too much. Have a great day or night wherever or whenever you are reading this. 

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 132

Geralt is walking through a town when he senses something off. He glances up right as he watches a man leap out a window on the third floor. Geralt effortlessly catches him, holding him in a bridal carry. "Oh! My hero!" The man says to Geralt, looking at him with awe. "YOU FUCKER! JUST WAIT UNTIL I GET DOWN THERE!" Another man screams from the window. "What's going on?" Geralt asks, and the man in his arm flushes. "Fucked his wife." "That'll do it." "Indeed." Geralt sets the man down, and watches him get a headstart running from the husband. It isn't until later that night that Geralt realizes the man he caught didn't mention anything about Geralt being a witcher. Perhaps it was the shock and adrenaline. Perhaps he didn't even fully see Geralt, his mind was too focused on surviving. Months later, Geralt is tacking up Roach to leave town when a familiar blur busts into the stables, and leaps into a pile of hay nearby. A man enters after a minute, raving mad, holding a bottle. "Where is he!?" "Where is who?" Geralt asks, coolly, and watches the man's temper fizzle out into apprehension. "N- Nobody. Sorry for bothering you, mister witcher." and the man scurries off. Geralt turns to the haystack and watches as his acquaintance in bright clothing crawls out, hay still stuck in the creases of his clothes and the strands of his hair. "His wife, too?" "His son, actually." "Mm." "Thank you for helping me again." "I didn't do much." Still, the colorful man flicks a coin to Geralt, and then races out. Huh. The man recognized him. And the other man, the one who chased him, had even called Geralt a witcher. And yet the man was still not scared. He even thanked Geralt. Nobody ever thanks Geralt. Another few months later, Geralt is setting up camp when he senses something in the trees. He readies to fling a knife up there, only to see- The man again. He starts very awkwardly trying to climb down, before falling flat on his ass on the ground. "...Hello again." "Hello, my dear witcher!" "Why were you in the tree?" "Oh, I was chased here-" "Of course you were." "Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?" "I've only met you a few times, but every time I have, you're running from a man who is a relative of someone you've fucked. Out with it, what was it this time? Daughter? Husband?" "Mother." "I can s-" "And his father." "..." "They were a very adventurous couple." And despite it all, Geralt laughs. He throws his head back and cackles. He's never laughed so hard in his life. "I'm Jaskier." The man - Jaskier - introduces himself as he wipes dust and leaves off of his doublet. "I'm Geralt." "Would you mind if I stay with you for the night, Geralt?" "I'm a witcher." "I'm a bard! Glad we're past that." "Of course you're a bard." "Of course you're a witcher." "You already knew I was a witcher." "Then why bring it up when I said I wanted to stay?" "Nobody wants to stay with a witcher." "Well then I suppose I am no longer Jaskier, and my name is now Nobody, dear friend." Jaskier confuses Geralt, but it's not like he'll stay forever, right? Right?

[green-fifteen]

Day 8: Slow Blink

Prompt: Smile Fandom: The Witcher (TV) Pairing: Geralt & Jaskier Summary: Jaskier discovers something interesting about his companion. Word count: 1,404 read on ao3 instead

written for @fluffyfebruary

Jaskier had been traveling with Geralt for four years when he finally learned something absolutely fundamental about his friend. The witcher might disagree, but to Jaskier this was the most important discovery he'd made since he'd found the man himself.

It was a hot day and they were stuck in mud up to their ankles, trudging through some hovel right at the edge of a wide river.

"Why are we here, Geralt?" Jaskier had whined, lifting his hat to wipe the sweat from his brow. His companion had only grunted and walked on. "Geralt. Geralt! You know, I'm sure Roach would have a thing or two to say about you dragging her through this mire. We could catch a disease! What if we all get a parasite! And for what!"

He looked over at the horse in question to see what she thought of the situation, but Geralt moved in front of him to feed her a treat from the saddlebag.

"Roach is fine," he said. She did look fine-- crunching down on the hard, rooty end of a carrot and somehow making it through the mud like it was water instead of awful sludge that was trying to take Jaskier's shoes off his feet every time he took a step. He stopped walking, overheated and annoyed.

"That's it!" he cried. "I'm finding an inn--" he looked around at the sad little huts and gardens. "--or a tree stump, or somewhere I can go and wait for you to come back. This is ridiculous."

Geralt looked at him and said, "Okay," and gave him a look that clearly meant, Why should I care? It would be hurtful if Jaskier hadn't spent so much time with him. Geralt never wanted him to come with him on Witcher business. By now the bard was good at convincing himself it was solely because Geralt cared so much for his health and well-being.

Rolling his eyes, Jaskier made to turn around and stride away, forgetting for a moment that his shoes were firmly stuck in mud. He felt his bag drop first as he flailed his arms to steady his balance, and then he was tipping backwards as if in slow motion, gazing up at the unfairly blue sky as he finally landed on the ground. His lovely linen shirt squelched into the ground as his legs bent at the knee, his shoes still planted.

Roach stepped away, alarmed. Geralt patted her side reassuringly while his gaze was on Jaskier, who blearily noted how fetching his yellow eyes looked against the summer sky. As he watched, the witcher closed his eyes and opened them again, too long to be a blink but too short to be anything else.

Furrowing his brow, Jaskier stuck out an arm to Geralt, who sighed but heaved him out of the mud. His clothes and shoes left the ground with an awful sucking noise.

Subtly, he watched the witcher's face as he dragged himself back into order, wiping mud from his elbows and the backside of his satchel. After a few seconds, Geralt blinked, short and unremarkable. Jaskier was tempted to call it a fluke-- after all, blinking slightly longer than usual could mean anything, or nothing at all. On top of that, the bard was frustrated with Geralt, covered in mud, and wanted nothing more than to strip all his clothes off and plunge into a cold bath.

He simply said, "Right, well. I'll see you when you're finished, I assume." He tried to be subtle as he took Roach's sack of treats from the saddlebag, but it didn't work. The horse nosed at him and the witcher tilted his head and frowned even deeper.

"So you both come back," he quipped, trying to sound like he was joking even though he wasn't. "I'll just be taking this with me on my quest to find suitable lodgings. Don't be out too late, dear." He stuffed the sack into his own bag and carefully marched away.

Two days later, Geralt came back to the little riverside town, smelling truly awful and with the head of some hideous swamp-thing strapped to his saddle. Jaskier had been fortunate enough to find an old, unused stable and made himself a nice little bed out of smelly hay. He hadn't felt inspired to play (he wasn't sure anyone there would be able to pay him for the privilege) so he worked on composing new songs instead as he waited for the witcher to return.

When he did, Jaskier didn't notice at first, too busy staring into the distance and counting off lines of metered verse. He was sitting on a boulder on the riverbank with one foot on the ground and the other propped up on his seat. He had nothing with him but his lute and his leather-bound notebook.

He jumped when he felt something shove his shoulder. Roach was behind him, Geralt looming above on her back. He sprang to his feet.

"Geralt! The Lady Roach!" he said, then stopped. "What is that smell?"

Before Geralt could answer (or, more likely, not answer), Roach pushed him again with her nose. Then she pushed him again and he stumbled to keep his balance.

Geralt made a noise that might have been a sigh. "Where are her carrots, bard?"

Jaskier was trying to pet the horse into submission but she wasn't interested in being mollified and began to nose her way into his jacket.

"Is that what this is about? I have her little bag in the stable just there--," his voice cut off with a warble as Roach took a step forward, shoving Jaskier along with her, and he lost his battle to stay upright. For the second time in three days, Jaskier watched the earth turn to sky in front of his eyes as he fell backward, this time directly into the river.

When he came up spluttering, he saw Roach pawing the ground and the witcher standing next to her and staring at him. When their eyes met, Jaskier glaring in disbelief, Geralt closed his eyes again in that same long blink as before. Then he turned his head to look at Roach and did it again at her.

Jaskier stood up and dripped, looking around at the river. The water was cool and relatively clear. "There isn't an inn here, Geralt," he said. "This is probably the best place to bathe for several miles." He did want to grumble a bit at the hair plastered to his face and the soaked feathers in his hat, but the water felt like heaven in the summer humidity.

"Also, I can smell you from here."

Geralt huffed and looked away, but he tied Roach to a log and undressed. As he waded into the water and felt the grime and sweat wash away from him, he did it again. One moment his face was hard as the steel of his sword and the next his whole expression seemed to soften and his eyes fell closed, then opened again.

Jaskier felt epiphany close over him. Oh. He was reminded of the cats his sister had kept growing up. Their nurse had told them to watch and listen whenever they could because not every creature used words like they could. Pay attention to everything else, she'd said, and you'll get the message anyway.

Jaskier was paying attention. He was paying the most attention. He thought he might have just made the discovery of his lifetime. Namely, that the witcher Geralt, White Wolf and the Butcher of Blaviken, smiled. Not only that, but he did it often.

After that, Jaskier was on the lookout for Geralt's peculiar little smile. Unfortunately, he saw it most often directed toward Roach or whenever Jaskier managed to embarrass himself somehow. It wasn't until they'd been traveling together nearly ten years that he started to see it more regularly even when he hadn't just fallen over a tree stump or ripped his trousers.

When they met that spring, Jaskier spotted him at the stables before Geralt had turned around.

"Geralt!" he shouted, joy making his limbs feel light. He had stopped resisting the urge to hug Geralt somewhere around their seventh year, so he didn't hesitate before throwing his arms around the witcher, who simply looked down at Jaskier and blinked, long and slow.

He couldn't wipe the beam from his face for days.

[astaldis]

For the Whumptober prompt 26 "Nightmares" and the Angstober prompt 11 "Wake up"

@angstober

Chapters: 1/1     Words: 423 Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion Characters: Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion Additional Tags: Whumptober 2024, Spoilers for: The Lady of the Lake, Sharing a Bed, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Nightmares, Soft Geralt of Rivia, Protective Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Angst, Fluff and Angst, death visions

Summary: Jaskier has a terrible nightmare. Geralt soothes him. But was it really just a nightmare?

"Wake up, Jask!" Geralt shakes the bard by the shoulder. He has been sleeping fitfully for a while, tossing and turning and moaning and groaning in his slumber. A nightmare, no doubt.

"G-Geralt?" Jaskier asks, his voice trembling. He sits up in their bed and rubs his eyes with clammy hands.

"The firefucker again?" the white-haired Witcher asks gently.

Continue reading on Ao3

[eggcompany]

Julian, On My Knees Part1

Young, broke, omega Julian Pankratz, Jaskier, finds a place to live. Sharing a nice little flat in the good part of town with a fit older alpha who's daughter just moved out. The room is perfect, his own bathroom, and his flatmate is probably the most gentle yet stern, buff and beautiful, and sweetest smelling alpha he's ever encountered. It's just perfect

At least he thought so. Stupid thin walls, stupid heat brain.

“Hi! You must be Mister Rivia! I’m Julian Alfred but everyone calls me Jaskier. It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance.” The young man said quickly, in a chirpy way as his hand stuck out as soon as the front door swung open. His eyes squinted with how widely he smiled, the picture of happiness and joy. 

Geralt shook his hand, taking in the chipper man. 

He was nearly as tall as the older alpha, which was surprising but welcomed. He’d be able to reach all the shelves, Geralt thought as he took stock. The boy had messy brown hair and a round baby face. Soft pink cheeks, sparkling blue eyes, smooth summer sun tinted skin, clean and nice. So much more beautiful than his profile picture. 

Geralt nodded, turning to let the omega into the apartment, waving him in with a hand. 

“Hmm, this is the flat. Bathroom’s over there. I have my own so that’s yours. That’s my room, you can knock if you need anything, I work from home mostly. There’s a mini fridge in your room, it’s older but if you want it out, I can remove it. The living room, the kitchen, I prep my food so please don’t mess with my containers. I split it down the middle with electric tape to make it easier but it’s not a strict line.” Geralt explained as he walked the other man around the house, pointing at doors. He couldn’t help but glance at the wide smile on the omega’s face. 

He’d explained the apartment over text when the boy said he was interested. It didn’t take Geralt long to take the ad down and decide Julian Pankratz was the only applicant. He was young, only 22 years old, worked part time at a coffee shop and part time riding his bike around delivering food. He was an aspiring musician, liked staying in and watching movies, didn’t have many friends in the city, and most importantly, he was an unwed, unmated Omega. Someone who wouldn’t be bringing another alpha into the house at all hours of the night stinking up Geralt’s space. 

Geralt knew another alpha in the house would only cause trouble. Betas didn’t like all the rules about scenting in Geralt’s building, and most of the Omegas interested so far were 18 year olds who wanted someone to look after them once they left their parents house. 

Julian, Jaskier, was different. He’d said he wanted some freedom and space, just wanting one person to live with so he didn’t get lonely but would let him be his own person. Someone to have his back and talk to but wouldn’t smother him or try to parent him. Seemed like a good fit. 

Geralt smiled a bit, amused, when Jaskier’s eyes widened and explored the kitchen, opening the fridge and cabinets. He almost forgot what it was like to be around someone with enthusiasm about everyday things, a youthful bounce in their step. 

Jaskier couldn’t hold in his excitement. The space was big and open, cool grey flooring with a big rug in the living room and well loved black leather couch and matching recliner, the tv was huge, the kitchen was huge, the cabinets were spacious, the fridge was big and had a nice freezer, and it smelled amazing, like warmth and clean laundry and a little like leather shoes. It was so much bigger than what Jaskier was hoping for, and so much bigger than what it should be for the price they had agreed to. 

“Wow this is nice! I’m so excited! The last flat I was in had two bedrooms and I lived with seven people. I’ll make sure to pay rent on time and keep my space clean, sir. But um… can I ask you something about the room?” Jaskier asked as they made their way to the slightly ajar door. He stopped short of it, not reaching for the doorknob but standing patiently. 

Geralt waited a minute for the boy to continue but Jaskier was waiting for the Alpha’s permission. Geralt liked that, it was respectful and pet something ingrained in his mind. 

“Yes?” Geralt asked as he stood beside the door he’d freshly painted, a nice light nearly white. He watched the omega look down at the floor, cheeks turning a cherry color. They had discussed house rules, rules for the complex, rent payments, but not quite the details of the actual. Apart from the contents and size. 

“I'm an omega. I… have quite um veracious heats. Are the walls…?” Jaskier said in a timid way, embarrassment burning inside of him. He’d only told Mister Rivia that he was an omega, he’d felt it was inappropriate to talk about his heats and such over text. He wanted to make a good impression on the alpha, didn’t want him to think he was some floozy puppy looking for a mate and a free bed. He was a grown man, he wanted the alpha to see that. Even if he still had to ask about the ventilation and soundproofing. 

Geralt understood immediately though, having had the room remodeled after Cirilla had presented. He wasn’t shy about omegan issues, he had an omegan daughter, and had dealt with her issues. Not much scared him anymore. Nothing is more exhausting than a thirteen year old omega who wasn’t scared to leave the house in her pajamas, barefoot, to walk two miles to McDonalds if you didn’t wake up fast enough. 

Geralt wasn’t a blushing twenty year old alpha anymore, after all. He could handle having a screaming banshee in the house for a few days a month. 

“Yes, soundproof and insulated. You have your own thermostat, the door has a seal around it, and there are extra ventilation vents that lead out and not to the rest of the apartment or building. I had it specially remodeled to be… as comfortable as possible for an omega.” Geralt explained and pushed the door open, welcoming Jaskier inside. He stood by the door, wanting to keep the separation of Omegan Space and General Space very stark. 

Jaskier walked in, eyes looking at the ten foot ceiling, the calm blue walls, the plush grey carpet, and the still plastic wrapped mattress Mister Rivia said would be provided sitting on a black metal bed frame that had a spiral patterned head and footboard. It was bare but somehow he could already picture where he’d put his things, hang his posters and pictures. 

He looked at the closet with its louvered doors and the big window overlooking the park that was spread out next to the building. He could open it and get good fresh air or the warm sun, and hear the rain at night. 

“Wow… This is amazing, really. So much space and such soft carpeting… so plush. I'm really really happy. Thank you Mr. Rivia! I’ll go get the rest of my stuff, just a couple bags and my instruments and my ikea shelves.” Jaskier thanked graciously, and happily, nearly skipped, to the front door. The alpha was right behind him, grabbing some keys from the rings by the door. 

“I’ll help you. I have your copy of the key in my truck anyway.” Geralt said and couldn’t help the small smile that smirked on his lips at the omega’s genuine response. 

“Oh, thank you, dear.” Jaskier said as he slipped his shoes back on and opened the front door. He couldn’t help but feel giddy. He’d always dreamed of a place like this. So what if he had a smoking hot roommate who smelled so nice, it was only a bonus. He couldn’t wait to get the plastic off that bed and sleep alone for the first time in… since he moved out of his parent’s house. 

It was like heaven already. 

~~~~~

Geralt was surprised about how much he enjoyed another man’s presence in his home. He liked the sound of Jaskier cooking in the kitchen, he liked that the omega would leave his bathroom door open after he got a shower and his scented steam would waft out, all honey sweet and warm, he liked that Jaskier would come quietly sit down and watch TV with him if he heard a show come on. 

He liked when Jaskier sat on the kitchen counters under the bright white lights to tweak and fix his old second hand instruments. He liked that Jaskier would talk and talk, about his job, customers, his music, anything in the world and not get offended when Geralt didn’t answer. The alpha found it soothing to have the chatter while eating dinner or breakfast. He liked that Jaskier hummed as he did laundry or washed dishes or swept, tunes that he’d hear on a guitar or keyboard after a few weeks. Geralt felt less lonely, like the hollow feeling he felt after Cirilla moved out was being filled, not in the same way his daughter’s presence did, no not at all, it was an all new feeling. It was nice.

Jaskier loved living in the apartment. He could open up his window and smoke when he got itchy for a cigarette, he could work late into the night and not worry about making too much noise, he could masturbate and not worry about the smell or his sounds, and Mister Rivia let him watch TV with him. 

He loved that. He loved sitting by the older alpha, eating dinner with him, greeting him in the morning. He loved that Mister Rivia would ask him if he had a good day at work or if he was cold or if he got wet by the rain and then tell him to get a warm shower and put on some dry clothes before dinner. He liked that when he forgot his work apron and his name tag and his jacket, Mister Rivia caught him in the lobby of the building, all three in his hand and a gentle finger wag. 

He loved being looked after. It wasn’t overbearing, it was sweet. 

They were happy together, Geralt made sure Jaskier knew when to be out of the apartment when his daughter or ex-wife was visiting, sending Jaskier off with a few dollars to get coffee or a snack. Jaskier gave Geralt ample warning when he was going into heat, making sure the alpha was okay with him to heat in the apartment before locking himself away in his room for a few days. 

There were a few hiccups. Geralt had a yelling match in his office which made Jaskier cry and hide away at his friend’s house till Geralt called him, and swore it wouldn’t happen again. Jaskier came home drunk, very drunk, and fell asleep half hung over his toilet, naked from the waist up, shoes left in the middle of the floor, front door left unlocked. Geralt had given him a strong talking to. 

‘That is not safe Julian. If you ever get that drunk, where you can’t keep yourself on your own feet, you call me. At least then I can lock our front door.’ Jaskier had sniffled and nodded, making sure he had Geralt on speed dial. 

And the one time they actually argued. Four months in and they had a fight. Jaskier wanted to hang up a new poster, a big framed thing. But he didn’t ask where the step ladder was and thought it was too rude to stand on a dining room chair. So he stood on his computer chair. And left his bedroom door open. 

Geralt had come home from a meeting at the office, tired and uncomfortable in his tailored suit. He’d barely broken the entryway when he heard Jaskier scream out in fear. He found Jaskier crying, hand over his bloody knee. He was first concerned and scared but once he saw it was just carpet burn, and noticed the computer chair was tipped and the half hung poster, he was angry. He barely kept his voice from rising as Jaskier cried, yelling back.

 ‘I’m a grown man, I can do it by myself!’ Jaskier had shouted, shoving away Geralt's concerned hands. 

‘Obviously, if you used the right things. You should never stand on a swivel chair, Julian, You can be as grown as you want as long as you use your head! Don’t be stupid Julian. Think.’ Geralt had reprimanded, leaving a hand to help Jaskier to his feet. Jaskier had pouted and stomped to the bathroom, slamming the door. Geralt had huffed and slammed his own door. 

Jaskier apologized and looked like a dog, tail tucked between his legs. 

‘I’m sorry. Just got scared.’ 

‘I forgive you. You know where the step ladder is, next time, use it. Please’ 

And all was set back to normal. 

Month after month, five had passed, their few disagreements passed easily, and soon Jaskier had been there for Christmas. 

They had exchanged small gifts. Jaskier got Geralt a pair of new blue slippers because ‘Geralt yours are ugly and old, look these have really good insoles!’, and Geralt got Jaskier a nesting bundle of music print blankets and pillows.

 Jaskier had cried and told Geralt that it wasn’t fair and that he shouldn’t have spent so much money, ‘Jaskier would it make you feel better if I said it was on sale?’ 

‘Yeah, it would.’ 

‘It was clearance, cost me barely anything.’ 

‘Okay good, lie to me if it makes me feel better.’ 

‘I will’, Geralt had rubbed the omega’s back until he stopped crying. He’d made a note to himself to always tell Jaskier his gifts were cheap, even if they were $100 nesting bundles. In Geralt’s mind it was worth it, to see Jaskier tie the bundle to feel each piece, cotton, flannel, fuzzy material that Jaskier rubbed against his lips repeatedly until he hauled it all to his room with a big smile. 

And then New Years and Jaskier sent Geralt a selfie, covered in glitter and glow sticks under a blanket of confetti and fireworks, right at 12:01. Geralt had saved the photo, he didn’t know why, but the big smile on the omega’s face and the way his cheeks were crimson red and eyes drunk dilated, it made Geralt’s heart jump. He didn’t mention it to Eskel or Lambert when they asked why he was smiling at his phone during their poker game.  

Then Valentine’s Day which was the worst because Jaskier was supposed to be in heat but he’d just started new hormonal heat aids, which supposedly were supposed to keep his cramps at bay, and they were making him crazy. He sobbed into a gallon of ice cream on the couch, covered in piles of blankets, watching some disgustingly cheesy romance movie with Brad Pitt.

Geralt was trying to finish a spreadsheet but each time he heard the omega sob, it felt like his heart was being ripped out, making him hurt. So he was out on the couch soon enough, rubbing the omega’s back as he cried and babbled about how the medicine wasn’t working and his stomach hurt and his head hurt and he felt starving and he was getting fat and a million other things. Geralt just shushed him and didn’t say anything. Eventually Jaskier calmed down and fell asleep there on the sofa, leaving his empty tub of ice cream and spoon on the side table. Geralt put pillows behind his head, wiped his sticky face and hands with a damp paper towel, and turned the tv and lights off. It made Geralt feel better, even though he kept his door open, headphones half off. Just until Jaskier dragged himself to bed. 

They liked living together, they liked having each other around. Just as roommates, as friends, as… whatever they were. They respected each other, never going into each other's bedrooms, Geralt never going into the omega’s nest and Jaskier never stepping foot in the alpha’s den. They didn’t talk about Yennefer or Jaskier’s heats. 

They pretended to not hear each other’s personal dramatics. Jaskier pretending to never hear Geralt’s phone calls with Yennefer or the late night binges on the candy he had stashed above the fridge. And Geralt never hearing the noises that came from Jaskier’s bathroom at 3am.  

It was easy, it was a silent arrangement that worked. 

Until it changed.

[dotlookstired]

Chapter 7 of my little witchers fanfic

After finishing this chapter, I am having a hard time with ideas. I have a vague concept where the littlest ones start playing, and at first, the older ones think it’s silly and cringe-worthy. But over time, they get dragged into the fun and decide to enjoy being kids while it lasts.

That idea feels a bit thin, though, and I’m not sure it’s enough to build on for another chapter. If you have any suggestions or ideas, I’d love to hear them in the comments!

Chapter Text

As soon as they arrived at the stables of Kaer Morhen, Dandelion came sprinting out. “I’m so glad you’re back! Yennefer returned while you all…were…gone—" He froze mid-sentence, his eyes locking onto the tiny witchers. “What in the bloody hell happened!?”

“The fox creature in the village. Here, take Eskel so I can dismount,” Vesemir said, gesturing to the boy sleeping on his lap.

“This is Eskel?” Dandelion exclaimed, staring at the miniature witcher in amazement as Vesemir handed him over.

“Yes. Every witcher except me is now a teen, preteen, or toddler,” Vesemir said, glancing over the group. He dismounted his horse and went to help Coën off his.

Dandelion scanned the group until his gaze landed on a young white-haired boy with bright yellow eyes. “Geralt! Is that you?” he squealed, skipping over like a kid in a candy store, unconscious Eskel still dangling in his arms like a sack of potatoes.

“Careful, Dandelion! Don’t drop Eskel!” Geralt squeaked as he awkwardly slid off Roach, his small stature making the process more of a controlled fall.

“Oh, you’re all so tiny and cute!” Dandelion squealed again.

Ciri, now freed of the littlest witchers by Vesemir, quickly took Eskel from Dandelion before the bard’s enthusiasm could cause any accidents. “It’s toss a coin to your witcher, not toss the witcher” she said as she slung him over her shoulder and headed inside.

With his arms finally free, Dandelion pounced on Geralt, scooping him up in a bone-crushing hug. “Oh, Geralt! You’re like a little doll!”

“Dandelion, please, I need to breathe,” Geralt rasped, struggling to pry himself out of the bard’s affectionate grip.

“Geralt, why are you a child?” yelled Yennefer as she marched over and rescued him from Dandelion.

As Geralt began explaining exactly what had happened, Vesemir, now wearing slings that carried Aiden and Lambert, herded the rest of the group inside. “Ciri, lay Eskel in the infirmary. Coën, you follow and lie down as well. I’ll be there shortly after I get these two situated,” he instructed, glancing down at the two sleeping witchers nestled snugly in their slings.

Ciri hauled Eskel onto one of the old infirmary beds, then flopped into a chair to catch her breath. Eskel might only have been thirteen now, but just as in his adult form, he was still a lot bigger and heavier than the average person. After a moment, she started removing his oversized boots, grimacing at the state of his filthy, ill-fitting clothes and armor.

She recalled that some of her old clothes were still stored away somewhere. Quickly retrieving them, she found a few outfits that might fit Geralt and Coën as well. Returning to the infirmary, she handed an outfit to Coën, who thanked her gratefully. She then set aside a set of clothes for Eskel, assuming he’d probably prefer if Vesemir helped him change rather than her.

Meanwhile, Vesemir was struggling with a rather unexpected problem. Lambert, who was still asleep in the sling, managed to entangle himself in Vesemir’s hair, clutching it in a death grip. “Come on, Lambert, just let go,” Vesemir muttered, keeping his voice low so as not to wake the sleeping witchers. He needed to get the keep situated before he could even think about dealing with their chaos just yet.

His plans were almost ruined when Yennefer appeared, walking swiftly down the hallway with Geralt dangling helplessly under her arm. His legs and arms hung slightly above the floor as she briskly recounted what she’d been up to on her vacation.

“Shush,” Vesemir hissed, nodding toward the slumbering witchers in his slings.

Yennefer paused, offering a quiet apology before stopping to take a closer look at the tiny Lambert. “Aww, if I didn’t know better, I’d say Lambert actually looks cute,” she whispered.

Geralt, still dangling in her grasp, turned his wide, pleading eyes to Vesemir, silently begging for rescue. Vesemir glanced down at him and had to stifle a laugh at his pup’s predicament.

“Yennefer, could you help me untangle myself?” Vesemir asked, nodding at his hair and the Lambert.

Yennefer released Geralt, who immediately scurried away.

Vesemir let out a long sigh of relief, as he was separated from Lambert’s grasp. “Thank you, Yennefer,” he said, his voice a mix of gratitude and weariness.

Yennefer arched an eyebrow, and smirked. “Even asleep he’s causes trouble”

Vesemir noded, his focus on the two small bundles in his arms. Lambert was still fast asleep, and Aiden was curled up, tiny ears folded against his head. Vesemir adjusted his grip. “Now I need to find a place safe to put them while I work.”

“Why not put them in their bed? Or one of the infirmary cots with the others?” Yennefer suggested.

Vesemir shook his head. “I’m worried they might roll out of the bed—or worse, get squashed if the others roll over in their sleep. Besides, I want to keep them close enough to watch but not have to hold them the whole time.”

Yennefer considered this for a moment. “Like a carriage or a cradle?” She glanced around the keep’s aging hall. “You could make something similar out of one of the crates in the cellar. Line it with padding and blankets, and it would be portable. That way, you could carry it room to room.”

“That could work. Could you fetch a small crate—preferably one with handles?” Vesemir asked.

Yennefer hesitated. The cellar was her least favorite place in the keep. “Or…” She trailed off, glancing at the little witchers. She knew how much of a menace Lambert could be but Aiden looked impossibly cute, all snuggled up in Vesemir’s arms, his ears twitching faintly in his sleep. She sighed, knowing she couldn't take one without the other. “ I could watch them while you go.”

“Thank you,” Vesemir said skeptically, passing the two over carefully. Yennefer cradled them against her chest, muttering something as she carried the two small witchers to her room, settling herself by the fire. she found herself smiling, Lambert stirred briefly, his little fingers curling around the edge of her sleeve, but he didn’t wake. Aiden, let out a tiny sigh and burrowed closer to her

“Menaces,” Yennefer murmured as Lambert wrapped his little hand around her finger.

Vesesmir quickly located an adequate crate. He gathered some spare blankets and pillows, and arranged them inside the crate. When he finished he didn’t hear anything from Yennefer so he assumed all was well and took the opportunity to go check on the others.

Vesemir turned his attention to the infirmary. When he entered, he discovered that Geralt had scurried off there. Geralt was wearing clothes that actually fit and had squashed himself into one of the oversized chairs with Ciri, telling her how he was hiding from Yennefer and Dandelion.

He then went about checking on the others. Coën had fallen asleep and seemed fine, Vesemir draped an extra blanket over him before moving to Eskel, who was also asleep.

“Ciri, good job finding clothes for them,” Vesemir told her.

Vesemir pulled a curtain for privacy and gently dressed Eskel. Once done, he returned to Yennefer’s room.

The sight that greeted him made him consider that maybe he was dreaming and this whole ordeal was just a nightmare. Yennefer was sitting in front of the fire, her gaze soft as she observed the two little ones in her arms. Vesemir set the crate down gently and cleared his throat. Yennefer glanced up, her usual smug glare replaced by a genuine smile.

“I don’t think I've ever seen Lambert so relaxed before,” Vesemir said.

“Yes, if i didn't know better I'd say he was probably just faking so i let my guard down” she replied.

Vesemir took them one at a time and gently placed them next to each other in the makeshift cradle before tucking them in. as Vesemir carried them to his next task, Aiden cuddled up closer to Lambert who placed an arm around him.

Geralt had volunteered to start dinner. The tiny, white-haired witcher stood on a stool, carefully chopping potatoes with precision. His focus was broken when a cheerful voice rang out behind him.

“There you are, Geralt!” Dandelion chirped with uncontainable enthusiasm.

Geralt flinched, his hand freezing mid-chop. He turned his head slowly, glaring over his shoulder. “Shush! Keep it down!” he hissed, his yellow eyes narrowing. “There are certain people I don’t want knowing my location.”

Dandelion blinked in confusion, his grin faltering.

“I volunteered to cook dinner because I figured no one would think to look for me in the kitchen—including you,” Geralt growled, his voice dripping with irritation.

Unbothered by the witcher’s clear disdain, Dandelion leaned against the counter, a mischievous grin creeping onto his face. “Come now, Geralt. Who could possibly resist the allure and risk of a tiny, grumpy witcher wielding a kitchen knife? Certainly not me, i've been terribly board recently and i need some risk and excitement”

Geralt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you’re not going to help, go away before someone follows your voice and I have even more people bothering me.”

“Alright, what do you want me to do?” the bard asked. Gerlat handed him a bowl of chopped potatoes and pointed at the boiling pot of stew on the stove. “Carefully add those without splashing boiling stew all over yourself—or me, for that matter.” ” Gerlat said.

Dandelion carefully added the potatoes while Geralt watched him with intensity and great anxiety. “There! What’s next?” Dandelion asked, turning to face the little white-haired witcher.

“Don’t look at me like that, Geralt. You look as though some monstrous beast is about to leap out from behind me and drag me off. I’ll have you know I’m perfectly competent in a kitchen! I’ve survived all forty years of my life without a single kitchen-related injury,” Dandelion declared, crossing his arms proudly.

Geralt’s brow furrowed as he squinted up at the bard. “You’re forty years old? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Dandelion huffed, his arms still crossed. “There’s no need to be rude about it. I’m well aware I look like an old man.” He sighed dramatically.

“You look no older than twenty-three, you fool! There’s no way you’re forty,” Geralt said skeptically. The bard’s expression shifted to flattered. “Why, thank you, Geralt!” he said, giving a small bow. “But I am indeed forty. Why would I lie to you about this? Think about it: we met when I was eighteen. How long have we been friends now?”

Geralt opened his mouth, then paused, his face twisting as he did the math. “...Too long,” he muttered under his breath.

“Charming as always,” Dandelion quipped, placing a hand over his heart.

“But this doesn’t make any sense, you-” Geralt muttered, lost in thought.

Before Dandelion could respond, he let out a screech as the stew began boiling over. In a panic, the bard grabbed the pot with his bare hands, yelped in pain, and hastily plopped it down on the counter.

“My hands!” Dandelion wailed, shaking them dramatically. “I’ll never play the lute again! My life is over!”

“Dandelion, stop flailing and let me see!” Geralt shouted, his tiny voice somehow managing to carry authority.

The bard froze mid-wail, startled by Geralt’s outburst, and held out his hands obediently.

Geralt inspected them, squinting in concentration. “I think they’ll heal, but you’ve definitely scorched them, you idiot. Why on earth didn’t you use oven mitts?”

“I don’t know! I just didn’t!” Dandelion whined, his voice cracking.

“Unbelievable. You should go ask Yennefer to heal it,” Geralt suggested, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

Dandelion’s face twisted in horror. “Absolutely not! She’ll just laugh at my misery and misfortune. Plus, she frightens me a little!”

“Well, it’s more stupidity than misfortune, but fine,” Geralt said with a sigh. “I’ll come with you to talk to her. Maybe she’ll take pity on you if I’m there.”

When they found Yennefer, she was kneeling beside a sewing kit, rummaging through one of her chests.

“Yen? What are you looking for? I thought all your winter clothes were in the big chest at the foot of your bed,” Geralt asked.

Before she could respond, Geralt squinted at her suspiciously.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Yennefer asked, trying—and failing—not to laugh.

“Why do you smell like Lambert... and his cat?” Geralt asked in confusion.

Yennefer burst out laughing. “Because he and Aiden are small and need supervision! Vesemir handed them to me while he got the keep situated. And,” she added between giggles, “I’m looking for that dress that got ripped while I was gathering herbs in the woods. I’m going to recycle it into tiny clothes for the littlest two.”

“Oh, I see,” Geralt said, avoiding her gaze as embarrassment painted his face red.

Dandelion, ever the opportunist, grinned. “Geralt, are you jealous?”

“No!” Geralt screeched, his voice cracking as he crossed his arms defensively.

“Oh, don’t be that way,” Yennefer teased. “There should be enough material for me to make you something, too.”

Geralt tried to remain stoic, but a small smile betrayed him. “Can you make me a better shirt? This one has a hole,” he mumbled, holding up his tattered garment.

Yennefer nodded, still smiling.

“This is all very heartwarming,” Dandelion interjected, waving his bandaged hands, “but we came here for a reason.”

“Oh, right,” Geralt said, snapping out of his momentary distraction. “Yen, can you please fix Dandelion?”

“I don’t think there’s enough magic in the world to fix him,” Yennefer replied casually, not even sparing the bard a glance.

“Hey!” Dandelion squealed, holding up his burned hands. “He means these! My hands! I’m in pain, you heartless sorceress!”

“Oh, well, that kind of fixing is easy,” Yennefer said, as she turned to another chest. She pulled out a jar of ointment and smirked. “Hold still, bard This is going to hurt at first”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61463236/chapters/158033671